


What Is Lost Can Be Found

by StormCloud



Category: Bellarke - Fandom, The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Bellarke Week, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3571529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormCloud/pseuds/StormCloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy, Octavia, Monty, Jasper, and the 100 are sent to the radiation-soaked planet known as Earth. Is it habitable? Who knows. But by definition, these kids are "expandable" to the Ark.<br/>When the kids settle, it becomes common-knowledge that they are not alone.<br/>In the beginning, the 100 is hostile and poised to attack. Some stay that way, but others try to settle amongst their fellow Earth-dwellers.<br/>One Grounder in particular is rather... captivating; </p><p>Clarke Griffin.</p><p>(Might get a little mature. L, S, D, and Graphic violence.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Well, howdy! StormCloud, here! Does anybody even read these? Eh, whatever. So this is my first time on AO3. I've been on other specific websites and my Bellarke fanfics have been a soaring hit. So I hope you AO3-ers will enjoy them as well. The first chapter of this work was rather fun to compose. :3 Heck, all this rambling will probably be fun to create. However this rambling right here isn't probably fun for y'all to read, so... Let's begin! :D

“Shawman. Tell me how the hell I’m gonna get on that dropship!” The words practically tore from his throat, transforming them into a growl.  
The guard stared at the desperate adolescent with the smug look of satisfaction.  
“Alright, Bellamy. You wanna know how, huh? Okay. Do this one thing, and I’ll get you on that ship.”

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Bellamy’s hands were still clutching the handgun. For a moment, he wondered why it was shaking. Then he realized his hands were trembling.  
He didn’t want to shoot the Chancellor, but if it meant he’d get a free ticket onto that dropship then so be it.  
Bellamy would do anything to protect his sister.  
The clock was ticking, so he quickly hid the handgun in a trash bin. Not his best cover-up, but the choices are rather slim when your last chance to protect someone could vanish any minute.  
Running through the corridors, he became swallowed into the crowd of juvenile delinquents entering the dropship hub.  
He quickly plopped down into an empty seat, pulling down his harness and buckling it.  
Bellamy tried to calm his heartbeat, trying to send some brain-signal message to say that they did it.

They were going to the Ground.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

“Clarke! Kry hier, na Jacov seer!”  
Clarke’s head shot up as her mother’s voice filled her ears. She stood up from where she was collecting juniper berries and ran over to the source of the call.  
Clarke emerged through the Tree Crew camp entrance, walking into the Healer’s cabin.  
“Yes, mother? You said Jacov was hurt?” She said anxiously, her eyes clouded with worry.  
“Yes, over this way.” Her mother’s voice sounded from behind a moss curtain. Clarke pushed the green foliage away, and walked over to her mother, N’avi, who was leaning over a heavily-bleeding Jacov.  
“What happened to him?” She gasps, crouching down next to Jacov.  
“I do not know for certain, but he has been re-surfacing a fair bit and has mumbling a few things in his wake.”  
“Like…?”  
“Something about a star-rock falling from the sky, which makes no sense. Whatever those are, they do not exist. However, I found this metallic object lodged in his rib cage.” N’avi hands me a heavy, but medium-sized piece of scrap metal. “There appears to be no internal hemorrhaging, so I believe the metallic object did not puncture any important organs.”  
“That’s good.” Clarke nods, bending her neck to look Jacov square in the eyes. “Luister na my, Jacov. Jy gaan goed wes, okay?” She murmured soothingly.  
His green eyes fluttered open for a second, only to close once more. “Seker nie, ek is na.” He mumbled, sweat beading on his forehead.  
“No, Jacov. You are going to be fine. Trust me.” Clarke insisted, stroking his forehead as N’avi worked on his chest-wound.  
“You have been speaking a lot of ancient tongue, Clarke.” Her mother commented without looking up.  
“And why does it concern you, N’avi?”  
“Because it is not our way. We speak our tongue. Leave the Colonists to speak theirs.”  
“But they are fascinating! Their culture is so… unique.”  
“Maybe so, but it is not ours. If you want to be a Colonist so badly, then wait for them to come down from the stars, which is not going to happen again.” N’avi snapped. “Now enough of this. Jacov is falling unconscious again. I have this under control, you may go do as you please now.”  
Clarke sighed, standing up straight and walking out of the camp. She weaved her way through the forest, dodging rocks and jumping over fallen trees.  
Just ahead, she saw a very small plume of smoke arising from a piece of metallic scrap metal. Clarke sprinted over to it, noticing how it was half buried into the soil, and it left a small con-caved trail. Considering the angle it had fallen, the dispenser would have to be…  
Clarke looked up, a puzzled expression on her face.

How could this have fallen from the sky?

Impossible, Her trajectory estimation must be off. Unless…

The Colonists have returned.


	2. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and the others try to get a grasp on their... different... surroundings.  
> It becomes clear that a leader figure must be established. After all, these kids were confined for are reason.  
> But one thing is for certain;
> 
> The 100 are home.
> 
> (By the way, I'm going by the book character descriptions. PLEASE do not make this into something it's not, I am NOT racist in any way, my best friend is African American. Wells, nor the Chancellor will be black in my series. That's how it is in the books by Kass Morgan, and I'd like to stay true to 'The 100' origins. However, just for Bellarke rivalry purposes, I will keep Finn, Monty, Jasper, Harper, Miller, Atom, Murphy, and a few others in my series. BTW, they were not in the books.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like, I'll try to get at least two chapters knocked out today. I'll try to post 2 chapters daily. Thanks for the kudos and bookmarks, you guys! I'll do one shoutout for the first kudo of the chapter! That person will comment a description of their character and I'll incorporate it into the story. (Depending on their gender, ((preferably male)), they might even get a little Bellamy or Clarke action *wink* :3)  
> Good luck!
> 
> And, I wanted to use one line in particular from the actual TV show. It was just amusing to me. I mean, it was all serious but then Octavia just screeches WE"RE BACK BITCHES and I'm like yaaaaaaaaass.

Ragged breathes escaped his lungs as he struggled to grasp one shred of oxygen. The titanium harness dug into his shoulders as they tried vainly to do their job. He felt a sharp pain in his lower leg. Looking down, Bellamy saw a long gash trailing from his ankle up to the side of his knee.  
"Is..." He cleared is throat. "Is everyone alright?"  
His answer was a few 'yeahs' and groans.  
Metal sparked, showering yellow shards onto a few people. A girl squealed, and Bellamy rolled his eyes a bit.  
He looked over to an unmoving figure. It was a boy lying on his back, staring sightlessly into the sky at the torn open ceiling. The boy's arm had been severed, and there was a shard of a metal beam lodged in his abdomen. Bellamy grimaced and averted his eyes, fumbling at the harness until he fell to the floor.  
A shocked cry came from him as he hit the metal floor with a thud. Just then, he realized he'd been upside down.  
Wait a minute. Bellamy glanced up again. Blue. A bright blue. Sky! An actual sky!  
The muscles stretched on his face, and he realized he was smiling. Bellamy limped over to the door, pushing against it. The sound of metal grinding against metal filled to dropship. Just when he began to think that they were going to have to climb out of the torn roof, light flooded the ship and the door fell off it's hinges and onto the ground, creating a rather convenient ramp.  
Bellamy squinted his eyes shut, raising a hand to block the intense sunlight. After blinking rapidly, his pupils began to shrink, allowing him to look around.  
The 100 began to gather around him, utterly speechless. Only one light voice broke the silence.  
"Bell?"  
Bellamy whipped around to see a thin, pale girl with long dark hair tied up into a sleek ponytail.  
"Octavia!" He exclaimed, running up to her and wrapping his arms around her.  
"Girl's gotta breathe, Bell."  
"Sorry," He said, releasing her. "You've gotten so big."  
"Ah...Not to be rude or anything, but... who's she? I've watched all of the Trial for Confinement tapes; I haven't seen her before." A tall, tan boy spoke up, a skeptical look on his face.  
"For your information, Chancellor Junior, she's my sister." Bellamy sneered, turning back to the outside.  
Gasps and muttering erupted among the juveniles.  
"Yeah. I was pretty much locked up for being born." Octavia snapped.  
"My name's Wells." The tall boy narrowed his eyes.  
"I know who you are." Bellamy answered, glancing over his shoulder.  
"Let's go to the Ground, already!" Another boy called. Bellamy turned around to see the kid that wasted a month's worth of oxygen just for an illegal spacewalk.  
"Alright, Spacewalker." Bellamy grunted. Octavia jumped down, her shoes landing on soft, lush grass. She slowly looked up, a grin stretching across her face.  
"We're back, bitches!!" She cried, running forward to explore, several others hooting and following her.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Clarke ran forward, dodging moss-covered boulders and fallen trees, racing to see what she suspected had caused the metallic debris. She stopped in her tracks as she heard a joyful cry, her heart pounding. Clarke grabbed holt of a tree trunk, scaling it to the top. She grabbed a branch the belonged to a neighboring tree, and then another, and then another, until she was picking her way across the canopy. A few times, she almost plummeted to the ground, but she always managed to regain her balance.  
"Don't eat that, you idiot!"  
Clarke looked down to see a dark haired kid swatting a wintershade berry from a scrawny kid with peculiar googles' hand.  
"Is it poisonous?" The kid with googles asked.  
"I don't know, Jasper. It's not in my textbooks. But do you honestly want to find out the hard way?"  
Jasper shrugged and considered this, dropping the very-poisonous wintershade berry and following his friend.  
Clarke continued on, stopping as she came across at least 50 others in a big group, rummaging through things, she also spotted a few staking what she recalled to be 'tents'.  
"Sjoe..." She breathed, staring in awe.  
The Colonists HAVE returned!  
Clarke saw the juvenile called Jasper and his friend enter the soon-to-be camp, laughing about berries. Then, Jasper tripped and fell, rolling over onto his back. He was laughing. Wait, no. He was gasping for air. Then Clarke noticed an arrow with a blue feather shaft protruding from his chest. She gasped, scooted backwards on her branch, leaves shaking off and fluttering to the ground in the process. Clarke looked to her left, seeing her little brother, T'ihen.  
"T'ihen! What are you DOING?!" She whispered.  
"I saw a Colonist, so I took an opportunity! What are YOU doing?!" T'ihen exclaimed quietly.  
"These are children! They are our age! They mean us no harm, T'ihen!"  
"How can you be so certain, Clarke?"  
"Look at them!" T'ihen glanced down at the Colonists in chaos. "Do they look threatening to you?!"  
"No..." He sighed. "No, they don't. But that is how they appear. We do not know yet. Ugh, Clarke! I'm tired of your obsession with the Colonists and the Ancients! Look, here we are speaking ENGLISH!" T'ihen spat out that last word.  
"Get over it. They are a good people. Go home, T'ihen. I'll continue cleaning up YOUR messes."  
T'ihen scoffed, cursing at her in their language, before retreating back into the canopy.  
Clarke didn't want to risk being seen, so she waited in the bushes until dark when the Colonists were settled down for the night, and they left their wounded to rest.  
She crept into the camp, sprinting across the large clearing and into a large metal encasing that they came down on. Clarke heard the soft groans of pain coming from up higher, so she turned and climbed a metal ladder to the top. In the small room, she saw the Jasper boy lying on a makeshift table.  
Clarke stalked over to him, leaning over him. He opening his eyes, widening them and beginning to say something.  
"Shhh, shh!" She quickly placed a hand over his mouth. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here to help you." The boy stopped struggling, but fear was still etched on his face.  
Clarke reached over to grab rhodophyta (red seaweed) from her deer-skin bag. She grabbed a stone and smushed it into a pulp, putting in some marigold leaved to help with infection. Clarke removed the ripped cloth from Jasper's wound and stuffed the poultice she made into it. Tossing the dirty cloth down, she grabbed a large, long catalpa leaf and wrapped around his rib cage, covering the wound and the poultice healing it.  
"What did you do?" Jasper whispered weakly, gazing her through his fever haze.  
"I fixed it. Jasper, listen to me. I'm going to leave this red stuff called rhodophyta here. Crush it up and put it on your wound every day. You can get more in the river just south of here. I'll come back every night for a week to check on it," Clarke placed her hand on his warm forehead and gave him a small smile, turning and flying down the ladder, sprinting across the clearing and diving into the bushes.  
Clarke had either helped create peace, or screwed up greatly.


	3. Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy gains intel from Jasper about this mysterious helper. Now knowing that the Grounder will check on Jasper every night for a week, Bellamy's decided to do something drastic. He's convinced that the Grounder's manipulating them so that they let their guard down, and the Grounders can attack unexpectedly.   
> Little does he know that's not her intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaalrighty then. This chapter was particularly fun to write, because some Bellamy/Clarke confrontation happens. --Oops. Spoiler :3  
> Enjoy! I'll post another after this. BTW, there's a lot of dialogue in the first paragraph. Hope y'all don't mind.

"Looking good, Jasper. You should be able to walk in...I'd say in about a week." Bellamy commented, lacing up his boot and glancing back at Jasper on the table.   
"Mhmm." Jasper replied groggily.  
"Monty finally found the right plant?" Bellamy inquired casually.  
Jasper raised his head a bit, a perplexed expression on his face. "Uh...no...he didn't. It..." He stammered, struggling vainly to remember. "It...She was a...uh..girl."  
Bellamy blinked. "Ah...okay, and who was it, Jasper? Harper?" His voice grew impatient. "I'd like to know who has those kind of skills for future reference."  
"Not too sure my answer will help you in that department."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well...I don't think she was one of us. Like, from the Ark."  
Bellamy stared at him, standing up straight now. "You can barely remember what you had for breakfast, Jasper. I--"  
"I didn't have breakfast." Jasper mumbled poutingly.  
"Tell me what she looked like."  
"Hm..." Jasper sat up, narrowing his eyes and staring at his knees. "She had blonde hair, not straight. Like, kind of crumpled. Uh...blue eyes. Like really, really blue. Like really REALLY REALLY--"  
"JASPER!"  
"Sorry. Uh...She was wearing these weird clothes. Like skin-tight black pants with all sorts of gadgets and little nicknacks attached to them. She was also wearing a jacket of the same material, except a few patches of it were...furry. Probably animal hide. That enough for you, Detective Blake?"  
"What did she say to you?" Bellamy asked, ignoring Jasper's retort.  
"Uh..." Jasper began, squinting. "I dunno." He concluded, shrugging like this was no big deal.  
"Damn it, Jasper!" Bellamy exclaimed, his hand coming down on a side-table. Jasper jumped, blinking at Bellamy. "This could happen again, and someone else may not be as lucky as you. I'm going to end this, somehow. I need to know what else she said."  
Jasper's mien became solemn, and he thought hard. "She...she said...uh...Well, for starters, she was really nice."  
"Or a really good manipulator!" Bellamy protested.   
"Um, ahem. Who's talking now? Right. Anyway, she said that...uh..." Jasper's eyes trailed around the room until they landed on a red bundle of seaweed.  
"Yes! There! Right, there!" Jasper exclaimed, pointing radically at the seaweed. "That's rhododryta. She put it in my wound and said to put more of it on every day. Yeah...yeah! Thats right! Then she also said she'd come back to check on me every night for a week. But that's not the point. I figured--" Jasper cut himself off, as if realizing what he just said. "Oh. She's uh...she's coming back. Tonight."  
Bellamy was deep in thought now. "Thanks, Jas. I know what to do now." He said, turning and climbing down the ladder.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

 

Clarke was perched in the fork of a large birch tree, sharpening her hand-held knife against a rock that she had brought up. She put it in it's sheath on her upper arm, tightening the strap that held it to her. Clarke had debated whether or not to wear her tribe's formal face markings, but the latter one over. Just beneath her eyes, a black stripe, a much thinner white stripe, and a blue stripe. Clarke was unaware that her eyes were practically glowing.  
She laced up her worn out leather boots, slinging her side deer skin satchel across her shoulder.   
Clarke decided to go on foot this time, so she dropped to the ground, somersaulting with the impact so she didn't break an ankle. She sprinted across the forest floor, a smile upon her face. Clarke loved her home. She really did.  
Just when she was getting close to the camp, a tall, broad-shouldered figure appeared, blocking her path. Clarke skidded to a stop, tossing up moss and twigs in the process.  
She now saw that the figure was a tall, broad-shouldered, tan boy.   
A Colonist.   
And he was clutching a knife.  
"Hello." Clarke said, holding her ground.  
"Who're you? Are you the chick that fixed up Jasper?" Bellamy narrowed his eyes.  
"Clarke. And the boy with the googles, yes."  
"Bellamy. And I see you speak English."  
"You should have realized that when...'Jasper'...told you what I said. I assume he did, because here you are."  
"Here I am." Bellamy repeated. "Are there more of you?"  
"Yes."  
"How many?"  
"Over 60."  
"Do you all speak English?"  
"Yes and no. We have our own language and speak it most of the time, but I like to speak English."  
"Why?"  
"That's none of your concern."  
Bellamy raised an eyebrow. "Alright, then. Did you shoot Jasper, Clarke?"  
Clarke sighed, averting her eyes. "No. I'm afraid that was my rather...impulsive little brother."  
Bellamy thought this over for a moment. "Why are you helping Jasper?"  
"I usually have to clean up T'ihen's messes." Clarke retorted bitterly, aware that she had not yet mentioned T'ihen's name, but Bellamy got the picture.  
Bellamy moved forward in two strides, until he was inches from Clarke's face, and his knife was but mere centimeters from her chest.   
"You want to know what I think, Clarke? I think you're just manipulating us. Just so we let our guard down and you and your little group attack."  
"Bellamy...Get the knife away..."  
Bellamy continued, ignoring her. "But you know what? You haven't fooled me. I know exactly what you're up to. And if you think you can go on like this, you're dead wrong."  
"I'm warning you..."  
Bellamy still went on, touching the knife tip to her bare skin. "You're coming back to camp with me. As a prisoner. I know how 'tough' you think you are, but--Ugrrh!"  
Clarke cut him off, hitting his wrist so that he dropped the knife. She caught it, grabbing his arm and putting it behind his back until she had a firm grip on him. A grunt of pain and frustration erupted from Bellamy as Clarke pinned him to the ground, straddling his waist.   
HIS knife was now in HER hands pressed against HIS throat.   
"Please, I don't want to hurt you." Clarke explained, leaning close to his face. "Just don't make me think I have to."  
Bellamy was completely staring at her in awe. His face said, 'Woah...'  
He was almost mesmerized, and Clarke found her facial muscles relaxing. Then Bellamy's eyes were enlightened with anger and embarrassment, so he took advantage and flipped them over, grabbing the knife and pushing it towards her neck.   
"Alright, Clarke." He spat onto the ground next to them. "But you're still coming back with me."


	4. Acquiring A Liking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks into Clarke's imprisonment, and Bellamy begins to realize she isn't that bad. However, a Grounder from Clarke's past that's recently been imprisoned isn't willing to let Clarke be friendly with anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Yay, rivalry! Haha. I know you all've been waiting for some Bellarke action, and I promise that you get some in this particularly long chapter.

"How're we doing here, princess?" Bellamy teased playfully, walking up behind Clarke and leaning next to her ear. Clarke couldn't hide her shiver, but she turned around and pushed him away, laughing.   
"You cut your pants." Bellamy commented, looking down, a smirk forming on his face.  
Clarke's skin tights were now roughly-cut shorts.  
"Yeah, thanks to the unauthorized help of Octavia." Clarke smiled a bit.   
Bellamy stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Good thing she did, too."  
Clarke looked back up, unknowingly gazing at him.   
"Clarke! Ek kon 'n paar help gebruik hier!" Luka snapped, motioning for Clarke to come over there.   
Clarke glanced over, sighing and maneuvering her way out from in front of Bellamy.  
"Hey," Bellamy placed a hand on her forearm. "What'd he say?"  
"He wants me to come over and help him move the logs." Clarke replied bitterly. "I think I know what he really wants, though." She muttered under her breath.   
Bellamy narrowed his eyes, not hearing her. "Hey, Luka! I can get Atom to help you instead."  
Luka walked over, dusting off his hands, his muscles tensed. "Oh, no. It is fine. I don't want to cause any trouble. Clarke's okay with it."  
Bellamy stiffened and swung a fist back. "Who said she was--!"   
"Bellamy!" Clark grabbed holt of his forearm. "Bellamy... what's going on with you? You almost clocked Luka!" Clarke was barely aware that she was beginning to use Colonist slang.  
"You're naareiken right he was!" Luka retorted, and without warning, he threw a hefty punch at Bellamy, hitting him in the cheek. Bellamy didn't miss a beat. Instinctively, he pushed Clarke behind him with one sweep of his forearm and launched a punch at Luka. The blow hit him square in the jaw. Luka's eye rolled up into his hand, and his legs gave way so that the rest of him collapsed into the rain-wettened dirt.   
Luka shook himself awake and lunged forward, pushing a trying-to-be-assistful Clarke down into the mud, along with Bellamy. A slight downpour began to fall, soaking everybody, but the bystanders didn't dare go inside and miss a fight.  
Luka grabbed Bellamy's knife and swiped it across Bellamy's cheek, blood spattering into the mud and getting washed away by the rain. Enraged, Bellamy grabbed a rock next to him and hit Luka in the side of the head. Luka collapsed on top of Bellamy, unconscious. Bellamy shoved him off, standing up and breathing shakily.   
"Bellamy! Your cheek! And your eye, oh..." Clarke exclaimed, standing to her feet and blinking at Bellamy.  
Then, Clarke's panic control switched on.   
"Miller, Atom, carry Luka into the dropship. Upstairs. Monty, take Jasper and go get marigold and rhodophyta. Some catalpa leaves would be nice, too." Clarke commanded. The others were unsure.   
"Do what she says." Bellamy says, his voice unsteady.   
Miller and Atom picked Luka up, carrying him inside. Monty and Jasper began to leave, but Clarke stopped them. "Jasper! Take it easy, got it? Don't do any stupid shit that'll tear your stitches. Monty?" Clarke lowered her voice walking closer. "Get some wintershade, too."   
Monty widened his eyes, but nodded, leading Jasper out.  
"Bellamy, come on ins--Bellamy! Your side!" Clarke said.  
Bellamy looked down to his hip to see a stab wound just above the bone. He grimaced.   
"Ah, don't worry, princess. I'll be fine. Just a scratch."  
"Just a scratch, Bellamy?! Come inside, NOW!"  
"Why am I letting the prisoner command me?"  
"Shut up!" Clarke snapped as she tugged him inside. 

"Luka's upstairs, so... here. We'll go into the backroom. Lay down on this mat so I can assess your wound." Clarke said.  
Bellamy obeyed, lying down on his back. Clarke sat down next to him, pulling up his shirt to see it.   
"Allow me," Bellamy grinned. Clarke blinked at him then rolled her eyes. Cocky and confident even when stabbed repeatedly. Bellamy pulled the hem of his shirt up and over his head in one swift motion, tossing it to the side.   
"It's not deep," Clarke commented, trying to focus on his stab wound and not the fact that Bellamy was shirtless.  
"Hm."  
"Alright, little warrior, I stitched it." Clarke sat back on her heels. She crossed over onto the other side of him to address his cheek gash. "Hmm... This one isn't deep at all. But he hit your Maxillary artery."  
"English, please, princess?"  
Clarke chuckled, leaning in towards his face in a playful way. "Okay, to dumb it down for you, the bad man cut a bad spot on your face that's going to bleed a lot."  
Bellamy laughed, casually placing a hand on her lower back. "Come on, I'm not that stupid."  
"Okay, believe what you want." Clarke teased.  
"Why, you little..." Bellamy began, rolling over until she was being help captive under him. Clarke was giggling.  
"And you're always acting all tough and showing off your muscles!" She went on, laughing at his reactions. "And when your mad, sometime you growl like P'aana!"  
Bellamy laughed, then abruptly stopping. "What's a...Pona?"  
"Haha! P'AANA, you stupid! P'aana is like a... large cat. A black cat. Similar to an Ancient Puma. Except bigger. We gave her name because she's the fiercest predator in the area that we know of."  
"I see. So I sound like P'aana, huh? How so?"  
"Sometimes when you get mad, you'll...growl." Clarke laughed, trying to imitate P'aana's growl. Bellamy joined in.   
"You Colonists have turned me into this."  
"Is that a bad thing?"  
"No...not necessarily. Colonists are different. They aren't...confined to culture. Especially you."  
"Well...you're not that bad either. I mean, at least you didn't attack me."  
"By Luka's defense, you were going to strike at him first."  
"By my defense, he kind of deserved it."  
"How so?" Clarke asked cluelessly. She very well knew the answer, she just wanted to her him say it.  
Bellamy became uncomfortable. "He...Well...You know he's...into you, right?"  
Clarke nodded, averting her eyes.  
"Well, he was trying to take you from me, and I didn't want that so I challenged him and I got just so mad and--"  
"Woah, woah, Bellamy, slow down. Did you say...he was trying to take me from....you?"  
Bellamy blinked at her, as if just realizing he said that.   
"Bellamy--"  
He cut her off by placing his hands on either side of her head and pressing his lips to hers, rejoicing inside as she kissed him back. They pulled apart, staring at each other, surprised with themselves. Then Clarke flipped them over and kissed him. Bellamy kissed her back hard, parting her lips. A moan escaped from Clarke, something that set every fiber in Bellamy's being aflame, driving him on.  
Clarke pressed her hands against Bellamy's chest, heat from his bare skin radiating into her. He tugged at the hem of her shirt, and she pulled it over her head, their lips re-colliding. Bellamy rolled over again so that Clarke was beneath him, and his lips trailed down from her cheek, to her neck, collarbone, then back up to hers.   
"Bellamy..." Clarke whispered into his neck. Bellamy pulled away, his deep brown eyes looking into her ice blue.  
"I'm scared.." She said, faintly.  
"Why?" He replied, breathless.  
"Because I think I...might love you..."


End file.
